Distress
by HelenBeacham
Summary: A simple mission to free a kidnapped young girl from a crime baron has dire consequences for members of the team
1. Chapter 1

"**Distress"**

**By**

**HelenBeacham**

"See anything?" BA asked.

With binoculars set at the main entrance of a ten–storey office building located across the street from where the black red-stripped van was parked, Murdoch heaved out, "Not yet." He hastily adjusted the focus upon noticing a bewitching woman prancing out of the building. With a huge grin plastered on his face, he followed her alluring gait all the way to the parking lot. "Found something else more interesting, though. Much more," he drooled.

"Whatcha looking at?"

"A sight for sore eyes."

"Knock it off, fool! Keep your eyes where they belong!"

"Ah B.A.!" Murdoch griped, "We've been on this stakeout for over three hours now, I don't think the guy's in there."

"His Sedan's in the parking lot."

"He could have left in his accomplice's car using the back door. Try Hannibal again."

"I did, twenty minutes ago," B.A. huffed out. "He had Amy call Prescott's office and his secretary said he was in. So quit yapping and stick those eyeballs on the lens."

Murdoch grunted and resumed his watch. "Face tells me you're going to your mama's for the weekend."

"Yeah. I need a break...from you."

"Oh now B.A., you don't really mean that?" Murdoch whined.

"I sure do."

"Now that hurts my feelings when you say that," Murdoch feigned sulking. "I thought we were friends. Admit it, I'm a prescription against boredom," he smirked. "You love having me around."

B.A. growled, "You're just a crazy man who drives me nuts! Now watch that entrance!"

Murdoch scrunched up his face and pouted. "We're wasting time."

"No we're not. We've just got to be a bit more patient. He'll come out. He has to."

"Here!" Murdoch slapped the binoculars on B.A.'s lap. "You take watch for a while."

"Where you going?"

Murdoch hoped out of the van. "To smoke out the elusive rat."

"Get back in the van, fool!" B.A. barked with a scornful look.

"Trust me, Big Guy. I'm an expert in that field," Murdoch twanged with a strong accent.

"Look! Ain't that him over there?" B.A. pointed to a man in a marine business suit walking down the main entrance stairs.

"See, it worked!" Murdoch gloated as he jumped back into the passenger seat.

"What worked?"

"Never mind," Murdoch waved aside while concentrating on Prescott. "Where's he going?"

A car rounded up the corner of the building and stopped alongside the curb.

"He's getting into that car," B.A. observed.

"I was right. He's got an accomplice. Alright Captain Big Guy, full steam ahead and watch out for icebergs," he bantered.

"Crazy fool! Can't you talk like normal people?"

"Awwwwww it's more fun that way."

"Contact Hannibal to let him know where we're headed."

While B.A. manoeuvred out of the street, Murdoch got on the radio. "Colonel, the fox's out of the hole and the hounds are on its tail. Right now Prescott's east-bound on Pinewood Avenue and he's not alone."

"I figured this much. Good job, guys. Now maintain a safe distance. We wouldn't want him to pick up your scent. Report your location as they lead you to their burrow."

"Ten four!"

Barely ten minutes into the chase, Prescott's car made a left turn.

"Hannibal, our friend just veered off on Highway forty-seven. My guess is he's headed out of town. "

"If he is, then we can't afford to lose track of him."

"We'll stay on him, Colonel," Murdoch assured, glancing at B.A. who nodded in agreement.

The two comrades-in-arms remained on course, following at a safe distance. "He's taking a road off the beaten track. Where the heck is he going?" Murdoch wondered aloud to B.A. before picking up the radio to report to Hannibal.

As he listened to the Captain, Hannibal lifted up his eyes to peek at Amy, sitting next to the restless parents of the kidnapped seven-year-old girl. "Now doubt they're headed for some remote location, probably where they are keeping the little girl. Murdoch, slacken the leash a bit; otherwise they'll notice you following them. We wouldn't want to lose our pigeon at this stage."

"We're pretty much out in the boondocks here, Colonel, but rest assured we're sticking to him like fleas to a dog."

Inside Prescott's car, the driver looked up at the rear-view mirror. "We've picked up a tail." Prescott glimpsed at his rear-view mirror. "The black van with red stripes. It's been following us ever since we left the building."

"You sure?"

"Why would it be travelling on a dead-end road?" Suddenly the van slowed its course and widened the gap. "They're slowing down. They must know we spotted them."

"I'll take care of it." Prescott picked up the car phone and dialled. "Ken, it's Prescott. We're on our way to home base but it appears we have a nuisance on our tail. Can you handle it? It's a black van with red bands, you can't miss it. We'll lead it to Devil's Cliff."

"I'll take care of it, boss," the bulky figure crowed with a devilish grin.

"They're heading up the mountain," Murdoch observed.

"What should we do?"

Murdoch picked up the radio and called Hannibal. "Colonel, they're driving up the mountain. That could be tricky to shadow them, what with the narrow and treacherous roads up there."

"Stick to them as long as you can. Don't take any chances, though. If your smell an ambush, cut the cord."

"Will do."

An eerie awareness crawled up B.A.'s spine. "I don't like this one bit," he expressed with concern.

"Which part?"

"Why would he be going up there? There ain't nothing."

"Probably why this is a good hideout. Nobody would think of looking up there."

"Still, I got a very bad feeling, man."

"What? You think they made us?"

B.A.'s uneasy silence spoke volume.

"You and I both," Murdoch psyched B.A. out. "Stop the van."

"What?"

"Stop the..." Murdoch was cut off by a loud blow that sent the van weaving out of control. With numbed horror, he watched B.A. gripped the wheel to try to regain control of the vehicle. "Get out!" he shouted as the van swerved toward the steep cliff.

The truck soared over the edge and tumbled down the hundred-foot hill with both passengers trapped on board. When it finally came to an abrupt rest in the valley below, all was silent, save for the squeaky sound of the rear wheel spinning.

Standing on top of the cliff overlooking the road, Prescott's hatchet man fashioned a rewarding grin. He picked up the walkie-talkie and contacted his boss with the good news. "Yeah, job done. The nuisance has been eliminated."

"Good. Now meet us back at the shack."


	2. Chapter 2

"Why aren't they answering?" a flustered Hannibal mumbled underneath his breath as he nervously paced the length of the living room. Amy momentarily left her seat by the Evans to reach out to her anguished friend.

"Hannibal, do you think something happened?"

"I told Murdock that if they smelled a trap, to cut loose. They probably left the van to take cover. I'll give them a couple of minutes and then I'm going after them."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Yeah."

Face entered the house following his round around the property. "I've checked the premises, Hannibal. No one's prowling about."

"Good."

Face's eyes roved from one forlorn expression to the other. "What's the matter?

"We can't reach B.A. and Murdock," Amy informed dismally.

"I've been calling them for the past ten minutes. No answer. I'm sure they're ok. They probably took cover somewhere and can't get to the radio," Hannibal affected.

"Unh, unh. Yeah, sure," Face mocked. "Come on, Hannibal! Who are you trying to convince here?"

Greg Evans edged up to the twosome with a deep frown."Something wrong, Colonel Smith?"

"No, just a technical glitch that's all," Hannibal extemporized. "I lost contact with my men, but I'm sure it's temporary."

"Or maybe Prescott got to them. If he did, he won't think twice about resorting to torture and then he'll ship what's left of them in body bags."

Amy's eyes widened in terror. "Oh my God! He wouldn't go that far?"

"Believe me, he will. They don't call him the terminator because he's a fan of Schwarzenegger."

"Colonel, we must do something," Amy stressed.

Distressed, Hannibal looked up at Evans. "Can I borrow your SUV?"

"On one condition; I'm coming with you."

Hannibal shook his head. "Too risky, Evans. For both your child and my men."

"We're talking about my daughter's life here! Do you honestly believe I'd do anything to jeopardize it or your men's for that matter?"

"Sorry to be so blunt but sadly... yes, Seeing your child in harm's way will without doubt push you over the edge. You'll do the unthinkable and that mister could spell doom for everyone."

Mary Evans stood from the sofa and came to stand beside her husband. "He's right Greg. Let the A-Team handle it. They know what they're doing," she mollified and then tugged at her spouse's arm to lead him away from Hannibal and back to the couch.

Evans reached into his trousers pocket to take out his set of car keys that he tossed at Hannibal. "Here! The car's parked out front. It's got a phone. Use it to let us know what's going on out there."

"Thanks. Face, you're coming with me."

"Right."

Hannibal turned to Amy. "I want you to stay here with the Evans, just in case Murdock and B.A. call. We'll be in touch on our end."

"OK. And Hannibal...be careful."

Hannibal threw a reassuring wink at Amy before heading out the door with Face.

"Where to, Hannibal?"

"Sentinel Road. That's where Prescott was last seen."

With Face at the wheel, the dark gray SUV sped away.

"I should have gone with them," Greg Evans lamented bitterly. "Beats staying here and wait."

"Believe me, it's better this way. Colonel Smith has a plan to..."

"Oh yeah," Evans rudely interjected, "Well it looks like it backfired."

"We don't know that," Amy scowled in spite of herself. "I say let Hannibal tell us what to do next."

"She's right, honey," Mary assuaged, taking her husband by the arm.

* * *

Murdock groaned awake. No sooner had his eyes fluttered open that discomfort set in. A searing pang shot down his spine as he reached to probe his forehead where he felt caked blood. He winced and took a deep breath to deaden the pain, but it only made it worse. He quickly grabbed his aching chest and felt fractured ribs. He squinted his eyes shut against the throbbing in his head and then began to gently rub the sore area to alleviate the stinging sensation, while fighting the urge to cough. He blinked to clear the haze and established focus on his surroundings. His sight came to rest on the van lying on its side on top of him "What a silly place to land, big boy," he ribbed "You're crushing my...uh oh," A wave of panic spread over his face as it suddenly dawned on him that his legs were pinned underneath the van. "Something's not right." He tried to move his legs or even wiggle his toes. Both tasks proved unsuccessful. "Something's definitely not right."

He shut his eyes tightly, taking a few seconds to collect himself and assess his plight. As he reopened them, he noticed that B.A was slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious. He carefully took a deep breath to gather his wind in order to utter B.A's .name aloud without exacerbating his injuries.

"B.A!" he heaved out in pain."I know you're not dead. Come one, give me a sign here." He paused to breathe away a nasty twinge before resuming his plea. "Come on! Please don't make me repeat it or I'll lose my wind." He inhaled slowly and deeply to make one last attempt at rousing his friend.

"Murdock?" B.A. mumbled weakly.

"Yeah. Are you ok, Big Guy?"

"I don't know," he answered warily. One short move and then, "Aye!"

"What is it?"

"It's my left arm. Ah man, I think it's busted," he grumbled in pain as he tried to wiggle himself out of his seat.

"Anything else?"

B.A. took a moment to assess his condition, his face twitching as he prodded specific areas that felt abnormally tender to the touch. "Aside from a splitting headache and aching all over, I think I'm alright."

"That's good."

"Where are you? I can hear ya but I don't see ya."

"Underneath you."

B.A. craned his neck through the broken door window and looked down. "Whatcha doing down there?"

"Umm, good question."

"You ok, man?"

"Just about," Murdock cringed, gnashing his teeth as a stabbing pain shot down his spine. "My legs are pinned underneath the van."

"Hold on, I'll get you outta there."

With painstaking effort, B.A. scrambled out of the mangled van. The jerking motion added excessive pressure onto Murdock's body, sending it into the throes of agony.

"Sorry, man,"

"S'ok," Murdock huffed out in pain. "S'good to know the rest of me isn't numbed."

Cradling his injured left arm in his right hand, B.A. carefully slid out of the driver door and crouched down next to Murdock to size up the situation.

"Ok, when I lift the van up, you gotta pull your weight out with your hands and elbows. Can you do that?"

"Big Guy, be serious. You've only got one good arm"

"Don't mind that, fool. Now get ready, on three. One...two...three." With one loud grunt, B.A winched up the van a few inches off the ground with his right arm, creating enough space to free Murdock's legs and allow him to drag his way out. "Come on, fool! Pull!" B.A. shouted between teeth set in suppressed agony. "Can't hold on much longer."

The smallest effort caused Murdock to writhe in excruciating pain. "I can't."

"You have to. Come on you sucker, pull!" B.A. goaded but with little result. Murdock shook his head in defeat and let his body go flaccid. "I can't."

B.A lost his grip, causing the truck to drop back on Murdock who screamed in agony. "Man, I'm sorry."

"S'ok...s'ok. You tried." As the darting pain intensified, Murdock's eyes rolled back into their sockets and his world went black.

"Don't you dare!" B.A. slapped him in the face to trigger a response, "Stay awake, crazy man!" A second smack packing more punch elicited a muffled groan. "That's it, stay with me, here." He spotted a blanket lying on the van's floor and next to it, a thermos. He took one after the other and placed them on the ground next to the injured party.

"Want some water?" Murdock nodded weakly licking his lips in anticipation of quenching his thirst. However B.A's lame arm made it awkward for him to get the liquid into Murdock's mouth. He found the leverage he needed in the blanket that he furled into a makeshift pillow, after which he slid it underneath Murdock's neck to tilt his head forward. He then placed the opening of the thermos to the man's lips. "How's that?"

"Thanks, Big Guy. I needed that."

"How you feeling?"

Murdock took a few seconds to conduct a self-examination "Aside from a throbbing headache, a few cracked ribs no doubt, and being completely numbed below the waist, the rest is," he winced in fear of other grievous injuries, " well... I don't really know and don't care to check right now."

"You cold?"

"A bit."

B.A. took the folded blanket acting as support for Murdock's neck and spread it over his friend's torso. "I think they made us out," Murdock stated.

"How do you figure that?"

"Didn't you hear the shots right before you lost control?"

"Yeah. Tires blew up."

"Tires didn't burst by themselves. I distinctly heard the shots." He paused to repress his raw emotions. "We had them, B.A.. They were leading us to Meghan," Murdock deplored, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Don't fret about it none. We'll nail them."

"I hope you're right, but it's obvious you and me are out of the game."

"Yeah, well, it's just temporary till we get our limbs back up to shape and take off after them."

"It might be too late by then," Forlorn expressions crossed both faces as the reality of the moment sunk in. Murdock then glanced up at the steep hill. "How do you suppose we get up there with your arm and me...well."

"Hannibal and Face'll find us."

"Not in this pit, they won't. Haven't you noticed how far down we are, not to mention all that thick brush that's hindering the view from up there?" Murdock explained, throwing his partner into an ominous silence. "B.A.," Murdock gasped out.

"Shut up, fool!" B.A. rudely interrupted. "Save your strength."

"I was gonna say the radio. You can call Hannibal for help." There was a moment of hesitation on B.A.'s part that puzzled Murdock. "What?"

"I was wondering if I can reach it without getting back into the van, or else I'll crush you again." B.A stepped closer to the mangled door and extended his arm to reach the radio. He managed to grab the receiver but he soon discovered that the line was dead. Fuming, he banged it against the side of van several times, hoping to get it to work, but his efforts were futile.

"Cursing won't make it work, Big Guy," Murdock bantered. "It must have gotten damaged in the crash...like us. You have no choice but to go for help."

"I ain't leaving you here, alone. You've got a concussion. I gotta keep you awake."

"And then what? I won't make it outta here alive if you don't get Hannibal and the others. Go on! I'll be ok. I promise to stay awake." B.A. pondered Murdock's request with great reservations. He glanced down at his friend who threw him a reassuring wink. "Hannibal won't find us down here. You got go to him and bring back help." A painful twitch made Murdock cry out in pain.

"What is it?"

"It's my back," Murdock cried.

"I've got to get that truck off ya."

"Don't be silly!" Murdock puffed out through the pain. "You'll only make it worse for the both of us. Go on before it gets dark."

B.A. bent down closer to Murdock and with a finger pointed at his face, he threatened, "You'd better keep that promise, sucker, or I'll kill ya, understand?"

"I'll sing to myself and if that doesn't work, I'll reminisce about the times you got me in jams," he teased.

"It's the other way around, fool!"

Murdock fashioned a weak grin. "I won't let you down," he answered droopily.

"I'll leave you a gun, just in case some wild animal wants a piece of ya."

"Very kind, thanks."

After placing the revolver into Murdock's hand, B.A. tore out a piece of his shirt that he shaped into a sling for his arm. He then looked up at the steep slope to estimate its height and determine from which front to take on his adversary. He cast a last dejected glance at Murdock before embarking on his journey.

Murdock watched him walk away until he disappeared from view. Suddenly, a blazing spasm caused him to squint his eyes shut and grab his stomach that felt alarmingly rigid to the touch. "Oh no, not that," he quavered in fear that his hours were numbered. "Hurry back, Big Guy. Hurry back or I might be able to honour that promise."


	3. Chapter 3

"That's where Murdock said they were following Prescott's car," Hannibal stated to Face as they both drove down the mountain road. "That was our last contact." He tried reaching the boys on the car radio. "Still nothing."

"No sign of the van anywhere. I have this terrible hunch, Hannibal."

"Yeah...you and me both," Hannibal answered, then pondered his options. "Stop the car."

"What for?" Puzzled, Face followed instructions.

"If they got our guys, that means they were close to the lair. If that's the case, than this road must be in their crosshairs knowing that we'd be looking for them, ergo we're driving right into a trap. So we need a contingency plan."

"I thought you had that one figured out when we left the Evans' house."

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Why don't we leave the car down the road, grab the artillery and continue on foot. We'll be less conspicuous and we could take them by surprise."

"Too risky... for us, Murdock, B.A. and especially the little girl. No doubt Prescott has man power posted all around and they'll spot us. We need backup."

"And a plan," Face quipped before putting the car in reverse to double back in the field.

"Wait!" Hannibal exclaimed, grabbing Face's arm to stop him from turning the steering wheel.

"What is it?"

"I thought I saw something down there," he said motioning to the slope.

"What shape?"

"It was moving," Hannibal described as he squinted against the sun rays that distorted the image of a moving figure climbing up the hill. "My God!"

"Hannibal, what is it?" Face asked in a fluster.

"It's B.A.. He's climbing up the hill." No sooner had Hannibal finished his sentence that he was seen hoping out of the car and dashing to the aid of his friend.

"Careful, Hannibal. Could be an ambush," Face warned, scanning the surrounding area for any suspicious character lurking in the bushes.

"He's hurt," Hannibal observed upon noticing the sling.

"I don't see Murdock."

"He's seen us." Hannibal waved back at B.A to establish contact before meeting him halfway down the slope, with Face in tow.

"B.A. thank God man, you're alright," Hannibal enthused, his excitement running high until he realized they were missing one member. "Where's Murdock?"

Worn to a frazzle, B.A. clawed at Hannibal's arm for physical support and stole a few seconds to catch his wind.

"I left him down there. He can't move. His legs..." his speech faltered as he sucked in another breath, "his legs are pinned underneath the van. We crashed. Both tires blew up, which ain't no coincidence."

"Someone shot at you?"

B.A. nodded, still gasping for air. "I tried to lift the van off him but I couldn't do it alone."

"OK, show us where he is." Hannibal and Face each clasped B.A. by the waist and assisted him down the slope.

* * *

Meanwhile back at the Evans house, the patriarch stole down to the wine cellar, briefcase in hand, while the women were catching a few winks. There, he pulled at one wine rack and squeezed himself behind it. He disappeared into a narrow tunnel where he unlocked a secret compartment hewed in the rock wall, in which was stashed half a million dollars in small bills. He reached in to take out fifty thousand that he placed inside the briefcase.

Back upstairs, he padded into the bedroom to iron out the last details of his plan to pry his daughter from Prescott's claws once and for all.

"What do you think you're doing?" Amy seethed standing by the door, startling the conspirator with his hand in the money pit.

"I'm going to deliver the ransom. Time is running out," he stated firmly. "It's obvious Colonel Smith's plan backfired. I'm sorry if your friends got caught, but I'm not about to risk Meghan's life."

"What makes you think Prescott won't have you both killed once he has the money?"

"He won't," he replied unconvincingly.

"Hannibal wasn't sure about that."

"What do you want me to do, heh?" He lashed out at Amy, taking her aback. "Smith's worried about your men missing and probably dead. It's obvious his mind's on things other than my daughter's welfare and I don't blame him. I'd feel the same if I were in his place."

"He should be back shortly."

"I doubt that, Miss Allen. Look... I know you're trying to help and I appreciate it. Truly I do, but this game has gone on too long and it's time to settle the score once and for all."

"You're risking an awful lot by this taking this into your own hands. Colonel Smith has experience dealing with scum bags with the likes of Prescott. In any event, I assure you he won't let you down, even with wounded men in our mist, the case may be."

"And when were you planning on telling me about this?" Mary asked on an accusatory tone as she stole into the room. "Where does all that money come from? You wouldn't be laundering money for Prescott?"

"Of course not" he firmly denied,

"You have dealing with him, don't you? They went sour and then..."

"For goodness sake, woman!" he flared up, offended by the unfounded accusation. "You're insane! I wouldn't be caught dead associating with a rat's ass like Prescott. Incidentally he did ask me to be his right-hand man and I turned him down flat. Yes, maybe that's why he took Meghan; to coerce me into reconsidering my decision."

"Why you, Greg?" she exhorted.

"I don't know, Mary."

"Oh I think you do," she sassed back.

"All right, stop it you too!" Amy barged in to subdue the escalating tension. "Fighting amongst yourselves isn't going to help Meghan. Now we need to stay focus and stick to the original plan." Amy stepped up to a restless Greg and implored, "Please Mister Evans. Let's wait for Hannibal to return. We still have until five o'clock to deliver the money."

* * *

Murdock was nearing the end of his physical tether but despite a peaceful darkness that beckoned him to surrender, he goaded himself awake with his singing and reminiscence of past events involving him and B.A.. "Big Guy will kill me if I give up now," he chastised between laboured breaths. "Come on, Muchacho, you can do it. I'm sure B.A.'s found Hannibal by now." He closed his leaden eyes and licked his parched lips. He then slanted his head to the right to gaze eagerly at the thermos lying on the ground a few inches away. Slowly he extended his arm and wiggled his fingers, feeling the supply of relief within his grasp. A searing twinge caused him to retreat his arm in favour of his burning chest that he rubbed to deaden the pain. "Come on, Murdock, you were in worse shape during the war. This is nothing, fella!"

Minutes slipped away with Murdock keeping himself entertained to maintain awareness, albeit dim it was. He risked another swing at the thermos but his racked body precluded any physical strain whatsoever. However, his stubbornness was no match for the eerie sense of doom that slyly crept over, impelling him to resign to his fate. "Damn you!" he cursed at his body that he sensed was beginning to betray him against his better will. "I promise B.A. not to pull the curtain down. Can't go back on my word, come on! The show must go on." he mumbled feebly. He drew in a deep breath that triggered a racking cough. "Damned, that hurt!"

The coughing fit drained the last speck of energy that he had left. Sheen of perspiration was now covering his face. Fever has set in. Weak as a kitten and hurting all over, Murdock reluctantly allowed his leaden eyelids to close, but fought the urge to surrender to an alluring peaceful slumber. "Maybe if I just rest my eyes for a while I'll be ok," he drawled, fooling himself that it would do the trick. Regrettably, he was out like a light the second his eyes closed.

"He's down there!" B.A. indicated to his team members who followed his lead.

"I see him," Face stated, squinting to focus on the scene below. "He doesn't seem to be moving."

"He gave me his word that he wouldn't fall sleep. He'd better not be asleep or I'll kill him!" B.A. growled, striving to keep a brave front and yet, Face and Hannibal clearly detected a timbre of fear in that gruff voice.

They finally reach their destination with B.A. diving to his knees beside his listless friend.

"I told him to stay awake," BA seethed, dreading that Murdock had given up the ghost.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal knelt down and groped Murdock's neck, after which he leaned over his face to feel his breath. "He's still alive, B.A. His pulse is weak and the breathing's shallow, but he's still with us. Face, see if you can get the tarp in the van. We'll use it as a portable stretcher. And careful not to jostle the van too much."

"He's hot, Hannibal," B.A. observed sombrely.

"That's to be expected in his condition."

"He said he couldn't feel his legs and had a couple of twitches in his back."

"We'll need to handle him with care."

"Got the tarp, Hannibal," Face announced, throwing it over to Hannibal to lighten the load before sliding out of the van.

"B.A. can you unfurl it?" he instructed as he tossed the bag over to B.A. who set to work with his good arm.

"It's done, Hannibal."

"Hannibal, I was thinking that given Murdock's obvious dire condition, we should call an ambulance and let them take him to the hospital," Face suggested. "They are way better equipped to handle this sort of emergency. We're liable to aggravate his injuries if we try to move him ourselves."

"My thoughts exactly, Face, but look at him," Hannibal drew Face's attention to the drawn features and clammy sunken cheeks staring back at them. "Time's not on his side. He might be dead by the time the ambulance reaches him, not to mention the firemen to get him out from underneath the van. No, we've got to risk it."

Both B.A. and Face stared at each other with concern.

"Guys, this isn't up for debate," Hannibal slashed. "Murdock's gonna die unless we get him out NOW!" he shouted to snap his companions back to reason.

"You're right, Hannibal," Face agreed, though with some reservations. "What do you want us to do?"

"B.A., can you lift the van off Murdock's legs with that bad arm of yours?"

"I did it once Hannibal, but he couldn't drag himself from under. Yeah, I can do it again."

"Good. Face, I want you to slide your arms underneath Murdock's back to keep it straight while I pull him out."

Face drew in a heavy breath to summon his courage and nodded. In turn, Hannibal grabbed a hold of Murdock's shoulders underneath the armpits and poised himself ready to free the lump from his trap. "OK, on three. One...two...three."

The team worked in unison and succeeded in their mission without a single moan from the injured party.

"OK. Face, take a hold of his right shoulder and place a hand underneath his neck. We'll roll him gently over to the side while B.A. slides the tarp underneath him."

Face followed instructions and gingerly, they laid the limp body onto the makeshift stretcher.

"He didn't even groan, Hannibal. I don't like that," BA observed worriedly.

"He's passed out, B.A. Maybe it's best that he's unconscious. Won't feel any pain when we carry him," Face reassured.

"Face's right. Ok, on three we lift him off the ground. One, two, three." Both Hannibal and Face each took hold of the edges of the tarp and lifted Murdock off the ground. They briefly paused to steady their hold before marching on.

B.A. shrugged off the blazing pain in his fractured limb and insisted on helping carry his friend up the footpath with the aid of his good arm.

Once the gruelling ascension over, our three panting friends placed Murdock in the back of the SUV and sped away. On their way to the nearest hospital, Hannibal contacted Amy to advise her of the current situation.

"We found B.A. and Murdock."

"Are they alright?"

"B.A.'s got a broken arm, but Murdock's in pretty bad shape. We're taking them to the nearest hospital. I'll be in touch once we get there."

"Colonel, what do you think are Murdock's chances?" she asked worriedly.

"He's strong. He'll survive as he did numerous times in the past. Don't you worry. Face and I will return shortly. In the meantime, don't do anything irrational."

"We'll try," Amy said, lifting her eyes to glower at Greg seen pacing the length of the living room while nervously wringing his hands.

"Well?"

"B.A. hurt his arm and Murdock's in bad shape BUT..." she insisted before Greg could get a word in edgewise, "Colonel says he'll make it."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Hannibal said to stand by and he and Face will be here shortly."

"I don't like this. I don't like this one bit."

"Let's be rational and not risk your daughter's life."

"We've only got three hours before the drop off!" Greg fumed.

"Hannibal's aware of it. We've got plenty of time," Amy tried to mollify with mixed results.

The A-Team raced against time to get the patients to the hospital. There, both Murdock and B.A. were wheeled into emergency while Face and Hannibal sat in the waiting room to wait for results.

"Let's just hope Decker don't get wind of this or we're fried."

"It's a chance we must take, Face. If B.A.'s injuries are just limited to his arm, then perhaps he'll be out of here by tomorrow. Murdock we don't need to worry about. Technically he's not part of our team."

"Do you think he'll make it?" Face ventured to ask.

"I hope so, Face. Though his legs and back are not what concerns me most."

Face frowned dubiously at Hannibal's statement. "What are you implying?"

"I felt his stomach when we were prepping him for transport. It was rigid to the touch."

"Which means...?"

Hannibal paused and looked up at Face dejectedly. "Internal bleeding."

Face sank deeper into his seat and sighed heavily, closing his eyes in despair.

* * *

The phone rang, sending the threesome jumping out of the seats. Numbed with fear, they stared catatonically at the phone for a few seconds before Amy walked over to the table. "It's probably Hannibal with news on Murdock's condition." She picked up the phone. "Hannibal?"

"Sorry Sweetie, it's the Big Bad Wolf. Let me speak with Evans." Amy removed the phone from her ear and covered the mouthpiece. "It's Prescott. He wants to talk to you." She handed the phone over to Greg and went to stand by Mary for support.

"Evans, here," he spoke coldly.

"Greggy, I didn't appreciate the tail you sent on us earlier. That will cost you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tsk, tsk," he taunted. "Don't play innocent with me. Your little mistake is going to cost you. I've now raised the price on your daughter's head. It now stands at five hundred thousand." Greg slumped to a nearby chair, his face blenching at the news. Mary and Amy took a step forward. "You've got exactly one hour to deliver the load or else, your pretty little girl gets it."

"Let me talk to her. I wanna make sure she's ok."

Prescott motioned to one of his henchmen. "Bring the brat over here. Her old man wants to hear her voice."

Mary twitched the phone out of her husband's hand. "Meghan?"

"Mommy?"

"Yes pumpkin, are you ok? Did they hurt you?" she queried hysterically.

"No I'm fine. I'm just scared," she whimpered.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. You'll be home shortly."

"Ok mommy. Come soon."

"We will," she cried. "We will." She handed the phone over to her husband before crumbling to tears in Amy's arms.

"Evans, you've got one hour to bring the money to the drop off spot. I know you can gather that sum in a short spell. And don't you dare pull any stunt or I won't be so gentle with your little brat." Prescott crowed spitefully.

"Once I drop off the money, when will you release Meghan?"

"You've got my word that she'll be at your house before midnight." He hung up and grinned maliciously.

"He wants five hundred thousand within the hour." Greg informed dismally to his distraught wife. "Thankfully I got it stashed away in the cellar."

"You must wait for Hannibal," Amy insisted, though she knew her reasoning bore little weigh in the circumstances.

"It's too late for that. I must bring the money now."

"Please."

He gazed at her pleading eyes and for a fleeting second, he considered laying down the arms but a child's shriek echoing in his mind snapped him back to reality. "She's scared," he winced. "I got to go," he said resolutely, grabbing the briefcase and whizzing by the two women to head down to the basement to gather the needed sum.

"Then I'm coming with you," Amy said firmly.

"No!" Greg snapped. "If they see you they'll hurt Meghan. I need to do this alone."

"I'll get out of the car a few feet from the drop off. I can spy on whoever will pick up the loot and follow him," she explained to the sceptical twosome who glanced at each other. "Don't worry I'll be discreet. I've done this before. I was taught by the master," she assured to the Evans who pondered Amy's plan with some qualms. "If Prescott doesn't hold his promise, as I fear he won't, to release your daughter once he has the money, at least we'll know where he's holding Meghan and we can move in and rescue her."

A heavy silence wafted through the room as the patriarch weighed up his options.

"She's right, Greg," Mary yielded to Amy's insight. "We can't take any chances. It's imperative to locate Meghan in the event," she turned to Amy," as Miss Allen pointed out, Prescott doesn't let our baby go."

"All right," Greg heaved out with heavy reluctance. "Alright. Give me a few minutes to collect the sum and we'll go."

All three hurried down to the cellar.

"What do I tell Colonel Smith when he calls?" Mary asked.

"The truth, dear."

"He might curse at first, but he'll soon mellow out when he realizes that we didn't have much choice under the circumstances," Amy asserted to the distressed mother who strained a smile in agreement.

A few minutes later...

"OK. I've got the dough," Greg announced as he shut the secret safe and snapped the briefcase closed. "Let's go!" He led the way up the stairs with both Amy and Mary on his heels.

"Be careful, you two," Mary pleaded as they headed out to the car.

"Please God, don't forsake my precious Meghan. Bring my baby home," Mary whispered beseechingly to herself as she watched the car drive away.

* * *

Twenty minutes elapsed before the attending doctor emerged from the emergency room to share with anxious Hannibal and Face his preliminary diagnostic of the two patients.

"You're with Mister Murdock and Mister Baracus?

"Yes. I'm John Smith and this is Templeton Peck. How are they, doctor?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Mister Baracus suffers from a broken arm and a few bruises and gashes. Nothing that won't heal in a couple of weeks. He didn't sustain any head concussion nor does he have internal bleeding. That's the good news. We were however concerned over some tenderness near the liver but upon further examination, it turned out to be a nasty bruise. Nevertheless we'd like to keep him for overnight observation."

"Understood."

"He might be mighty sore for a while but he should count his blessings that he wasn't more grievously wounded as Mister Murdock was."

Doom gleaned over Hannibal's face. "What is it?" he choked.

"We're wheeling him into surgery to try to stem the haemorrhage in his abdomen. Hopefully we're not too late. As for his legs, they were badly crushed in the accident. There appears to be extensive tissue and nerve damage and the swelling in his lower back is undoubtedly causing the paralysis. We'll know the breath of the injuries once we go in. I can't lie to you it looks bad. We might even have to amputate."

"Oh no, not that!" Face jumped in.

"We might not have a choice if it means saving his life. Therefore we need consent from a kin."

"He doesn't have any."

"No parents, siblings, relatives...?"

"We're his only family, doc."

"Then I'll need one of you to sign the release form."

Panicked, Face stared pleadingly at Hannibal and exhorted, "We can't authorize that!"

"You heard the doctor, if they don't amputate, he'll die."

"He'll die anyway if you cut off his legs," Face stressed.

"Mister..."

"Peck."

"Mister Peck, rest assured that we will do our utmost to save the legs. It's only in the event that there's no remote possibility of restoring blood flow that they'll need to go."

"Give me the form," Hannibal said resolutely. The doctor handed him the folder and Hannibal sighed on the dotted line. "There you go! You save those legs, you hear?"

"We'll do everything humanly possible, I assure you."

"I know you will, doctor. Thanks."

"Can we go see our other friend?" Face asked.

"Sure, but he might not be very talkative. We administered him a sedative to make him rest."

"We won't disturb him."

"Room 202, down the hall to your left."

"Thank you."

"I'll call Amy with the news."

"I'll go see B.A.," Face said, receiving a nod in return.

Face left for B.A.'s room as Hannibal walked to a pay phone and dialled in the Evans' phone number.

The ring startled Mary who sprung to her feet. She stood motionless at the grip of powerful emotions for five seconds before stepping over to the phone. "Hello."

"Mrs Evans? It's Hannibal Smith. Can I speak to Amy?"

"I'm so...sorry she...she's not here at the moment. Can...can I give her the message?" she stuttered nervously.

"Mrs Evans, what's going on?" Hannibal asked, picking up on her fright over the phone. "Where's Amy?"

"Prescott called and said that if my husband didn't deliver five hundred thousand dollars within the hour, he'd kill Meghan," she sobbed. "Greg didn't take any chances and he went. Miss Allen accompanied him saying that..."

"Saying what?"

"That she'd follow the man who would pick up the brieface to locate Meghan in case Prescott didn't release her. She said she knew what to do not to get caught."

"That sounds like her alright, foolish girl!" Hannibal seethed underneath his breath. "When did they leave?"

"I'd say about ten minutes ago."

"Ok, stay put. I'm on my way to your house right now."

Hannibal hung up and went to inform Face of the change of plans. "As the case may be it might be two or three hours before we hear anything on Murdock's condition. In the meantime we need to grab the bull by the horns and do away with Prescott and his band of merrymen once and for all. To make matters worse, Amy went with Evans. If she's smart she'll only shadow Prescott's puppet and report the location of the foxhole so we can storm in and wipe out the place."

"With our main exterminator out of commission, it might be tricky," Face observed, looking at B.A. slumbering on his hospital bed with his left arm in a fresh-moulded cast.

"We'll need to devise a contingency plan. Barring complications, B.A. should be out of here tomorrow. With any luck Prescott won't leave town and we'll nail him and his gang."

"Hannibal do you really believe that? Once he's got the money he'll hop on a plane to God knows where and play possum until the dust settles and return with another vengeance."

"That's not his style. The man is careful to cover his tracks so the authorities can't crack him down. He relishes each and every one of his victories and vengeance is much sweeter when you can actually witness your victims' torment. Come on, let's go. I'll leave word at the desk where to reach us."

* * *

"Look what I caught loitering about in the bushes?" The guard dragged a handcuffed and gagged Amy inside the shelter.

"Well, well, well, another one of Evans's surprises no doubt?" Prescott sneered, standing up from behind his desk to leer at the merchandise. "And what is your name, sweet cheeks?" he goaded before tearing the tape off her mouth.

"I don't know what this is all about. I was minding my own business, hiking in the woods when this bulky brute," she motioned to the guard with disdain," sprung out of the bushes and grabbed me. Did I trespass on your private property or something?" Amy affected convincingly, but not nearly enough for Prescott to take the bait.

"Pretty you may be, but smart, you aren't. You're Evans' mole. Fine. If that's the way he wants to play it, so be it. We've got the loot but now we've got two chips to bargain with. I like the odds."

"You have the money. You can release the girl."

"I'm not sure. I might raise the stake seeing how there's a third player in the game: You, Miss Allen."

"You know my name?"

"I know all about you and the A-Team that Evans recruited. It's my business to be wired into everything that goes on in my field."

"That would be the kidnapping business, right?" Amy scoffed, receiving a sneer in return.

"Don't be a wise girl, Miss Allen. It doesn't become you. Besides you're in no position to throw sarcasms around," Prescott slashed with a withering look.

"What do we do with her, boss?" asked one of the henchmen.

"I don't know, yet."

"I have a hunch the feds'll be swarming this place any minute. I say let's dump the load and make ourselves scarce."

"All in good time, Hutchins, all in good time. As long as we have the girls, they won't try anything foolish. They are our insurance policy. Go outside and keep watch. Meanwhile I'll plan our next move." Seeing Hutchins hesitate, Prescott opened the top drawer of his desk, pulled out his revolver, aimed and shot the man dead, startling everyone present in the room. "Anyone else here questioning my orders?" he asked nonchalantly with his index finger still on the trigger. "Good. Thompson, you go stand guard."

"Right away boss," he replied fearfully, casting a haunted look at the corpse lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

"And get rid of that mess."

"Sure boss."

"Where's the girl? Where Meghan?" Amy asked with every nerve and quiver.

Prescott motioned to a henchman who stepped up to Amy and grabbed her by the arm. "Where are you taking me? I want to see Meghan." She tried to wrench herself free of the powerful grip. "Where is she?"

"Shut up, broad!" the man bellowed as he dragged a handcuffed Amy down to the basement. "Here," he said, opening a concrete door and shoving Amy inside. "There's your little brat." He removed the handcuffs and closed the door.

Amy padded up to the terrified seven-year-old and introduced herself. Meghan eyed Amy dubiously from head to toe and once her fear subsided, she threw herself in Amy's arms. "Hey, hey, it's ok Meghan. I'm here now. You're not alone," Amy comforted while hugging the girl.

Meghan refused to release the embrace she felt was a safe haven. "I'm scared," she cried, tightening the clench.

"Don't be 'cause we're going to get out of here." Amy pulled away and scrunched down to Meghan's height. "As I said before, I work with your dad and some friends of mine know where we are," she fibbed to reassure the girl who fashioned a timid curl of the lip. "Trust me, We're going to be ok." She enlaced Meghan once more and closed her eyes in dread of a tragic ending.


	6. Chapter 6

Hannibal and Face arrived at the Evans. Minutes later, Greg parked the car in the driveway and stode over to the door. Mary yanked it open and fell into his arms. "How did it go?"

"As good as could be expected. I dropped the briefcase and drove away. Hopefully Prescott will honour his word and return Meghan before midnight."

"What about Amy?"

"She got off half a mile from the place. She seems to know what she's doing. With any luck she'll locate Prescott's hideout."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Hannibal worried with a faraway look. "If everything had gone according to Amy's plan, she whould have been back by now. She knows better than to roam about a shady place longer than she has to, especially with no back up." He turned to Face, equally concerned. "Face we'll need to go in together. We can't wait for B.A. Time is winding down."

"Alright Hannibal but we need artillery and we are very low on the merchandise."

"I have guns you can use," Greg spoke up, beckoning the two men to follow him down to the basement where he rummaged through an old chest to retrieve two briefcases, inside which were tucked two AK-47. "Don't ask me where I got them. It could be very embarrassing."

Hannibal nodded and picked up three weapons. He handed one to Face and then checked for ammunitions. "Evans, bet you know how to handle these?" Hannibal asked as he handed the third rifle to Greg.

Greg cracked a wicked grin and armed his weapon like a pro. "Sure do. I thought you'd never ask."

"We need all the fire power we can get but I warn you...no funny business. I don't want any trigger-happy clown on my watch. I give the orders."

"Got it."

They drove to the drop-off location where they parked the van in brushwood and camouflaged it with loose branches.

"It's unchartered territory so it's safe to assume that Prescott's hideout is a shed or an old abandoned mine shaft. Let's keep our eyes peeled and ears open. Watch where you're going and try to avoid stepping on anything that might give our position away. And please, no heroics. Remember, I give the orders," his warning mostly directed at the loose cannon in their mist than at the trained soldier.

Greg armed his AK-47 and nodded his understanding. "Anything to save my daughter. I trust your judgement, Hannibal."

"Good. Now, follow my lead."

With Hannibal leading the pack, they threaded lightly through the brush, weapon at the ready to aim at anything that moved.

* * *

Meanwhile at the shack, Prescott was nervously pacing the length of the small living room. The abandoned shack he'd chosen as refuge was lacklustre and a far cry from the lavishness he was accustomed to. The cabin reeked of decayed wood and that putrid stench was slowly gnawing at his patience.

"Boss, want me to go check around?"

"No need, Stoler's outside mounting guard. He'll fire a warning shot if there's trouble. I need you right here just in case." He stopped and looked out the window. "I've got that nasty gut feeling that we're in the crosshairs. I can smell him a mile away."

"Who? Evans?"

"No. Colonel John Smith. He's like a snake quietly slithering his way towards his prey and springs on it with his fangs before it can react." Prescott snarled, eyes shooting dagger at the raw memory of his dire encounter with Hannibal during the war. "That man is relentless but so am I," he grinded between gnashed teeth. "I want him dead!"

"You're not suggesting hunting down the A-Team once we're through with Evans?" The henchman ventured to ask.

"Of course not," Prescott exasperated. "That'd be suicide...for now. But someday. All in good times."

Down in the basement, our resourceful spunky Amy was hard at work removing loose planks against what appeared to be an underground tunnel. Meghan helped by carefully and quietly setting down the boards onto the floor.

"Bingo!" Amy exclaimed in a whisper. She turned to Meghan and softly clasped her hand. "It's very narrow and dark so take my hand and don't let go."

Meghan held on to Amy's hand with all of her might. "Are the men upstairs going to know what we're doing?"

"I don't think they even knew about the tunnel or they might not have kept us down here. Meghan, it might be scary down there and I don't know how long the tunnel is or where it leads, but hopefully we'll be free. If you get scared if you see a spider or something, don't scream. Put your hand over your mouth. We can't make any noise."

"Ok Amy."

"Come on. Let's go."

They stoop down as they started down the narrow and ink-dark tunnel. As expected, various creepy-crawlers accompanied the girls on their frightening journey, but when your very own life is at stake, phobias tend to fade out. Your fortitude smashes any given inner fear and endows you with the strength to reach your goal.

A glimmer of light filtered through a boarded entrance. Amy and Meaghan both kicked the planks loose and escaped into the woods.

Amy's instincts smacked her with a dose of dread. Suddenly, she screeched to halt and pulled Meghan behind a thicket. "Put your head down and don't make a sound," she instructed in a whisper as her keen sense of smell picked up the whiff of an enemy approaching.

As though on target, the foe reared up its ugly head with his rifle conveniently leaning on his arm as he scanned the area. The girls crouched further down and held their breaths until the threat passed.

"I think the coast is clear but just the same, follow me very closely," Amy advised the frightened little girl who nodded nervously.

Further down the untrodden path, Amy's instincts detected another menace, but contrary to the first she picked up, she felt unthreatened by it. She risked the hawk code and smiled in relief when a reply wafted in the air.

"We're safe, Meghan," she rejoiced as she hugged the little girl. "My friends are here."

"Where?"

Amy squinted her eyes to discern Face and Hannibal's forms crawling towards her. "Amy?" Hannibal whispered.

"We're here," she replied in a hushed tone, barely showing her head. "Straight ahead in the bushes."

"Meghan!" The father exclaimed ecstatically upon setting sight on his daughter. He dropped his weapon and pulled her into his arms.

"Are you ok, Sweetie. They didn't hurt you?"

"No daddy, I'm fine."

"Get down!" Hannibal admonished. "These woods are swarming with Prescott's scoundrels."

"I want to get Meghan back before we raid their rat hole," Evans explained.

"Yes, you, Meghan AND," Hannibal turned to Amy with a scowl, "Amy are going back. "Me and Face we'll take care of those scums."

"No!" Amy objected. "I know where their hideout is and you can use the secret tunnel to get them by surprise."

"Amy, don't argue," Hannibal scolded. "You were lucky to escape once."

"Hannibal," Face interjected warily, "Amy does know the place and as she says, she can lead us to a safe entrance. I don't see myself smashing the front door without the big guy to back us up."

"I don't like this plan at all," Hannibal sighed.

"It's either that or we wait for B.A. If we do, Prescott is likely to skip town once he discovers the girls have escaped."

"Hannibal it's the only way. And I'll be careful," Amy assured, but failed to convince Hannibal.

"Isn't that what you said the last time and look what happened?"

"I agree that I might have stepped over the limit by coming here but hadn't they caught me, I never would have saved Meghan and she'd still be in there," Amy argued her case.

"Amy, you were lucky, that's all. We don't go by field in our unit, we map out our strategy and follow the plan."

"Yes Sir," Amy relented knowing it was a lost cause trying to wrangle with Hannibal.

"Ok," Hannibal sighed in resignation. "You can come with us. But first we need to insure Evans and his daughter's safety. We're all going to escort them back to the van."

As they made their way back to the truck, one guard sprung from the bushes and ordered them to drop their weapon. Evans was simmering beneath and instead of imitating the others, he swiftly aimed and fired at the nuisance, riddling him with bullets.

"Oh Christ!" Hannibal cursed. "Now Prescott will release his hound dogs on us. So much for surprises. Hurry to the van!"

Then gang hightailed out of the woods on jumped into the truck. Face at the wheel put the pedal to the medal and sped away.

"They made us!" Prescott hurled to his henchmen standing guard. "Grab the loot and get out of here."

Two men dashed down to the basement to retrieve Amy and Meghan. "They're gone!" one observed to the other. "Look!" he motioned to the hole in the wall. "They've escaped."

"Prescott will go nut."

"Why don't we cut out of here through there? No doubt Prescott will waste us just like he did Armando."

"You're right. Let's go." He assisted his partner through the narrow tunnel and trod on his heel, leaving their ungrateful boss in their wake.

It didn't take long for Prescott to figure out that his men had flown the coop. He grabbed a loaded rifle and a handgun and headed out down to the basement. He scrawled through the narrow tunnel to the end where outside, near the entrance, his runaway car was parked, under heavy camouflage.

"Well, well, well," Crowed Hannibal with a cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth. "Lieutenant Gary ' Yellowbellied' Prescott I presume?"

"John Smith, We meet again." Prescott stared down at Face's AK-47 thrust right at his forehead.

"Put your rifle down, Prescott," Face instructed "and slowly."

Prescott gingerly lowered his main weapon down to the ground. Hannibal soon detected a hint of triumph in Prescott's facial expression. "And the handgun, smarty pants," Hannibal teased. "That smug of yours betrayed you once again, Prescott. You never could master the art of a poker face."

Prescott's smirk turned into a scowl and he pulled out his revolver from his break pocket. "You might have won this round, Smith, but the war ain't over. You know me. I always turn the tables in my favour."

"This time my friend, the game is over. No more gambling. If the law won't do the job, I will." Hannibal aimed his weapon and shot at Prescott's feet. "Lord knows the justice system isn't homed to perfection but if you so much fall through the cracks once more," Hannibal aimed at Prescott's head. "I'll hunt you down and put the slug between your wipers. I should put one in both your legs right now for running two of my men off the road and maybe crippling one for life. I'm being very generous by sparing you his agony. Don't test my patience."

"You're not afraid I'll give out your position to the authorities?" Prescott taunted. "You're wanted by the Feds as well, my friend."

Hannibal fashioned a wicked grin and ordered Prescott to march on.

* * *

Back at the Evans house, barely had they opened the door that an ecstatic Mary lifted her daughter in her arm and squeezed her tight.

It was decided that Greg would deliver Prescott to the authorities. Face volunteered to ride in the backseat with the handcuffed criminal while Evans drove to the police station, where he handed the prisoner over to the chief who was utterly grateful for this priceless catch.

Prescott rambled about the A-Team and his dealings with John Smith during this kidnapping stint. "He's right outside in Evans' car. Go check it out!"

When they reached the parking lot to examine Prescott's claim, the car was empty. Face had caught a taxi back to the Evans house before the cat was out of the bag.

* * *

In the hospital waiting room, Hannibal sat on the sofa, leaning on his fist as he tried to keep his leaden eyelids open while anxious Face strode the floor like a caged animal, ringing his clammy hands.

"Face, why don't go take a walk outside. You need to blow up steam."

"Oh and you don't?" Face snapped in spite of himself, causing Hannibal's head to snap up. "Sorry. Yeah I am a little overwrought but I want to stay here in case the doctor comes out. Should be any minute now."

"We said that ten times in the last hour. Go on, Face. I'll stay here and watch out for the doctor."

"Ok. I think I need some fresh air. Amy, you coming with me?"

Amy glanced down at her watch and guzzled down the last gulp of her coffee. "Yeah." She threw the cup in the trash can and joined Face.

As Face and Amy started for the exit, Hannibal sprung from his seat as the doctor approached.

"Mr. Smith?"

"How's Murdock?"

"Fortunately we were able to stop the bleeding. Aside from several bruises and lacerations, he has two fractured ribs but miraculously, none came close to puncturing a lung. Also a slight concussion that we're monitoring closely, though we haven't detected any haemorrhage in the brain."

"Thank God!" Face and Amy chorused.

"What about his legs?" Hannibal continued with a tinge of dread.


	7. Chapter 7

The doctor's reassuring smile alleviated some tension in the room."We saved them. The damage wasn't that extensive as originally thought and he has his friend to thank for that." All exchanged puzzled looks. "One more hour pinned under than van and it's unlikely he would have survived at all. The released tension allowed some blood flow, thus limiting the tissue damage."

"So he'll be able to walk again?" Amy queried expectantly.

"We don't know," he said contritely. "At the moment there's no reaction, but that's to be expected. There's swelling in the lower back and some minor nerve damage, which both can cause paralysis. We'll know more when he regains consciousness. Right now he's resting in a stable condition."

"That's good news." Amy sighed.

"Can we see him?" Face asked.

"We're settling him into his room as we speak. Let's say in twenty minutes?"

"Sure."

"As for Mister Baracus, barring any complication, I expect he should be able to leave the hospital tomorrow."

"Thank you again, doctor," Hannibal said as he shook the doctor's hand.

"My pleasure."

"So what now, Hannibal?" Face asked when the doctor was out of earshot.

"We stay outta sight and lay low for a while until the dust settles. By now Prescott must have tipped the authorities about us and they'll be out patrolling the area, and I bet you Decker won't be far behind. Hopefully B.A'll be out of here before all hell breaks loose."

* * *

Later the next morning, B.A. groaned awake in his bed and blinked his eyes open. First squinting against the glare of the sunrays coursing through the window, he then slowly adjusted his focus and began scanning the room.

He glanced down at his right arm stuck in a cast and frowned in puzzlement. "What the hell...?" At that moment, the memory of the accident came rushing back like a tidal wave. Overcome with dread, B.A. flung the covers aside and slid out of bed. No sooner had he put his slippers on and donned his nightrobe that he was out the door and searching frantically for Murdock's room.

"Can I help you, sir?" an attending nurse asked.

"Yeah. You have a patient named Murdock here? I'm his friend. Was in the accident with him. Want to see him. Where is he?" B.A. ranted and raved.

"Calm down, mister. I'll get you to see him, but you must promise to be quiet. Your friend needs his rest. Follow me."

B.A. followed the nurse with some remorse at his unwarranted outburst, but the mere of thought of Murdock dead sent his senses reeling and his emotions went flying out of control.

"Here he is," the nurse pointed to the slumbering patient on the bed. "He's resting in stable condition at the moment."

"Is he gonna be alright?"

"The doctor is confident he will pull thru. There's just the small matter of swelling in his lower back causing the paralysis, which should subside eventually."

"So he ain't gonna be a cripple for life? Thank God for that."

The nurse offered a timid smile instead of dashing the big man's hope for his friend's full recovery and walked away.

B.A. padded up to the bed where he stood and ran a cursory look over the patient to assess his condition. "You don't look worse for wear, from the outside anyway." B.A. walked to the end of the bed and rounded to the other side to get a closer look at the sutures on the head gash. "Nasty bump there, pal."

"Yeah and I've got the killer headache that goes with it," Murdock mumbled, causing B.A. to react in surprise.

"You awake?"

"Sadly yes," he whispered feebly as he fluttered his eyes open. "Pull up a chair and sit down. How you fairing, Big Guy?"

"Me? Just a busted arm, but it ain't nothing compared to what you went through."

"Doc says I'll survive," he assured weakly, trying not to move to exacerbate the pain.

"Sure you will!" B.A. blasted."You may be loony tune in the head, but you're tough as nails."

Amused by B.A.'s mocking statement, Murdock let out a small laugh that sent him gnawing in pain. "Don't make me laugh. My ribs hurt like hell."

"Sorry."

"The rest of you is okay?" B.A. nodded. "Good. At least one of us isn't mangled up."

"What kinda talk is that, fool?" B.A. lashed out. "You too are okay and you're gonna walk again, It's just a matter of time," BA stated assertively.

An eerie silence fell between the two friends as each carefully pondered their next thought.

"It doesn't look good, Big Guy," Murdock simpered. "The doctor was here a while ago to check my legs and..." he faltered and closed his eyes. "I have absolutely no feeling below the waist. Don't get me wrong I'm grateful they're still attached to my body but..."

"That's only temporary! Apparently the paralysis is caused by some swelling in the back and all that jazz. Once it's gone you'll be able to stand on your legs."

Murdock turned to BA and stared, "You're very bad at lying."

"I ain't lying, sucker!" BA roared.

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Big Guy," Murdock smiled gratefully.

"Once the doc gives the ok I'm taking you to my mama's farm."

"What? But I was under the impression you were going there to get away from me."

"Well yeah...no...not...ah hell since when you listen to anything I say? That ain't true. Beside you're part of the team and the unit sticks together." Murdock frowned. "We're all going to my mama's farm to get some time off to heal the scars."

"You mean you, me, the Colonel, Face and Amy?"

"Yeah, everyone. Mama insisted. She bought this little farm where she takes care of stray animals."

"That's a very noble cause. I do love that sweet woman," Murdock reminisced. "She's a very strong lady."

"Yeah, well, she likes you too."

"Tell her thanks for the offer, but I'll pass."

"You don't wanna go?" B.A. asked indignantly.

"It's not that I don't want to it's..."

"What?"

"Come on, B.A.! Look at me!. I'll only be in the way."

"DON'T SAY THAT!" B.A. threatened. "You'll walk again."

"MIGHT walk. There's a difference," Murdock sassed back, annoyed by his friend's misplaced confidence.

"Since when you're a wet blanket?"

"I'm a realist. I don't want to lie to myself."

B.A. stood from his chair and stepped up to the bed with a menacing look. "Look...you're coming to my mama's house and that's that!"

"Is that an order, Sergeant? Remember, I outrank you."

"Oh yeah?" B.A. thrust his fist in Murdock's face. "THIS outranks you, fool!"

"You wouldn't hit a cripple man, now would you?" Murdock joshed.

"Don't tempt me. I've hit worse."

Murdock cringed.

"You okay?"

"My back's acting up again."

"Want me to call the doctor?"

"No...no it'll pass." Murdock swallowed hard and sank into his pillow. "Alright, if I go, can I name a bunny?

B.A. smiled. "Yeah but you'll be in charge of scooping his poop."

"Deal!...Scooter"

"Hey! Don't you be calling me Scooter or I'll stuff that wheelchair down your throat." With a growl he started for the door. "Now you work on getting those legs back into shape."

"It might be a while."

"I say it won't, I'll make sure you do your exercises and don't sit on your sorry butt!"

"Thanks B.A."

"For what?"

"For caring."

"Don't spread it around."

"It's our little secret."

B.A. winked at Murdock before walking out of the room. Murdock responded with a friendly smile that rapidly faded once his friend was out the door.

"B.A?" Hannibal hailed from down the corridor as he approached Murdock's room.

"Hannibal, whatcha doing here?" B.A. asked, surprised. "I thought you'd be working at getting the Evans girl back."

"We did. She's back at home with her folks, save and sound. Not a scratch on her"

"How d'you pull that off?"

"Amy. The foolish girl prowled around Prescott's hideout and got caught, which screwed up the original plan but surprisingly, the rescue went a lot better that we anticipated. She found a secret tunnel in the basement where they were held. She and the girl escaped through there and once they were out to safety, we went back and collared Prescott as he was sneaking out of the rabbit hole. Unfortunately his goons had fled the coop."

"That's great, man," Tired, B.A. spotted a chair and sat.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, just a bit bushed." He glanced down the hall with a concern look. Hannibal followed the gaze to Murdock's room.

"You've been to see him?"

"Yeah."

"How's he doing?"

"He's down in the dumps. I invited him to go to my mama'a farm when he gets out of the hospital. No, I ordered him to come seeing how he thinks he's gonna be a burden and all."

"Do you think that's gonna do him any good?"

"I don't know but at least he won't be mopping around feeling sorry for himself. By the way you're invited too, Hannibal."

"I am?"

"Yeah, mama insisted I bring all of you."

"But I thought you wanted to go up there alone."

"Well I changed my mind. Under the circumstances I think it'd be better to stick close together and get some time off from all the Prescotts of this world, for a while anyway."

"Quite agree. Just don't want to impose on your mama's generosity."

"She welcomes the help."

"Help?"

"She takes care of stray and beaten animals. We can all pitch in while we're there."

"Might be fun."

B.A. took a deep breath to summon his energy and hauled himself to his feet.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Let's get outta of here before Decker gets wind of us being here. I'm surprised he hasn't shown up yet."

"Knock on wood," Hannibal sighed as he assisted his friend down the hall to his room.

* * *

A week passed and still no improvement in Murdock's condition. The Captain lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, resigned to the fact that he might be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He was done being angry at the world for his plight. He was grateful that the Evans girl had been safely returned to her parents. The only downturn was Prescott's escape from prison where he was held pending his trial. The A-Team stuck close by the Evans' to insure their safety while the fugitive was on the loose.


	8. Chapter 8

Two weeks later, Amy dropped by the hospital to check on Murdock's progress. She found him in the physiotherapy room as the therapist was exercising his legs.

"How you doing?" she asked.

"Hey Muchacho! Well, as you see the mulish limbs still won't budge," he said bitterly.

"But they're less stiff, more flexible. I say that's an improvement," the therapist chimed in while bending Murdock's left knee.

"I spoke to your doctor and he said you'll be able to leave the hospital tomorrow," Amy happily announced to a grumpy Murdock.

"Tomorrow?"Murdock exclaimed. "It's too early,"

"You'll move around in a wheelchair until you get the feeling back."

"Could you leave us alone for a moment, please?" he shot at the therapist who silently nodded and stood.

"I'll back in ten minutes to return you to your room."

Murdock strained a shy smile in response and waited for the therapist to exit the room before addressing Amy. "Amy understand, I'm not ready to leave this hospital yet."

Amy crouched down to Murdock's level. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he lashed out.

"You can't move your legs, so what?" The rest of you is still intact," she retorted with similar vehemence.

"That's debatable," he said, rolling his eyes and looking away.

"In fact ever since the accident you've been acting...sane."

"Yeah, isn't that a tragedy?" he quipped, bordering on cynicism.

Amy sat opposite Murdock and briefly paused to reflect on his aberrant behaviour. "There's something else gnawing at you, isn't it?"

Murdock glanced at her with dewy eyes. "The Colonel breaks me out of the VA hospital whenever the team needs a pilot for the missions." He shook his head helplessly. "I can't help him anymore," he snivelled, biting his lower lip to quell the rush of emotions.

"Correction, we need you for a lot more than for a plane ride, buddy!" she scorned." Besides, you'll be back in the pilot seat in no time."

"How can you be sure when the doctors themselves are sceptical?"

"Because they don't know you like we do. You're resilient and fight your way out of any situation. This is no different. Come on, let's get you back into that wheelchair."

"I can't do it by myself," he griped, roughly brushing her aside as she started assisting him to his chair.

"Oh, oh, oh, my! Aren't we a little bitchy this morning," she taunt. "I've got news for you, dearest, I'm not impressed, nor am I insulted."

Murdock repented and hung his head in remorse. "Sorry, Amy. I didn't mean to..."

"I know you didn't," she mollified with an endearing smile. "I'm tougher than you might think."

"I know you are, Baby," he smiled with a teasing wink. "Thanks...for trying."

"I too am stubborn. I'm not giving up on you, yet."

Swallowing his pride, Murdock allowed Amy to assist him into his wheelchair. She then pushed him out of the therapy room and down the hall where they crossed path with the therapist. "I'm bringing him to his room."

"Ok. I just spoke to his doctor and indeed tomorrow he can go home."

"That's good news, thank you." She continued wheeling Murdock down his room. "You know B.A won't say it but I can tell he's very anxious and looking forward to having you visit with his mama," she confided as she assisted Murdock into his bed.

"He's one big giant teddy bear." Murdock laid back and sighed heavily.

"Don't fret it, Murdock. Everything's gonna be fine."

"I hope so, Amy. I hope so."

* * *

At Murdock's insistence, the doctor agreed to keep him an extra seventy-two hours in the hospital before discharging him. During that time, the team respected their buddy's wishes to allow him some breathing space in order to reflect on his condition and take appropriate measures to beat the glum that was alienating him from his friends.

An eerie uneasiness took root within the unit following Hannibal's startling news that Murdock's doctor had recognized them. The physician assured that he wouldn't breathe a word to the authorities but nevertheless, nerves were on edge at the possibility that Decker could spy on Murdock's whereabouts. They sought temporary refuge in the Evans's mansion while counting down the hours of Murdock's discharge.

To beat the unfavourable odds against them, Hannibal decided to curtail Murdock's stay at the hospital. A mere twelve hours later in the wee hours of the morning, Greg Evans willingly volunteered to bring the Captain from the hospital. Amy agreed to go along as a lookout in the event that they picked up a tail. The night journey went without a hitch with Decker nowhere in the vicinity, save for their moody and irascible passenger who complained about being wrenched out of his slumber. Murdock finally clammed up when Amy exposed the rationale behind their decision to head out to Mrs. Baracus's farm at night time.

At the Evans' home, a groggy Murdock was settled into a guest room while the rest of team finished ironing out the details of their trip to San Joaquin Valley. Once ready, they all headed out quietly, heedful not to disturb Mary's and Meghan's sleep. They strapped Murdock securely in his seat at the back of the van and following a hearty goodbye to Greg Evans, Hannibal drove the truck out of the driveway and on to their destination.

It was mid-morning when the A-Team van pulled into the driveway of a charismatic farmhouse. No sooner had Hannibal slid open the side door that Mrs. Baracus dashed down the front porch's wooden stairs to greet them.

She flung herself into her son's arms and clenched him into a tight embrace. "Bosco! You're here! I'm so happy to see you, son." B.A. flinched at the strength of the hug that he couldn't return on account of his broken arm. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"Don't be silly, mama. Just can't move it, is all."

She went to Amy and pulled her into her arms. "Amy, Sweetie. Nice of you to come."

"I'm grateful for the invitation, Mrs. Baracus."

"Please, all, call me Evelyn. And Templeton...," she cooed, hugging the man. "My blond cutie pie," the pet name made Face blush with embarrassment. "And where is my Murdock?" she asked anxiously, peaking inside the van where Hannibal was busy unbuckling Murdock's seatbelt.

"We'll be right out, Mrs. Baracus," Hannibal said, beckoning B.A. and Face to lend a hand in getting their crippled friend out of the van and into his wheelchair.

"Got to warn you, mama. He's one giant pain in the butt. He whines and gripes all the time."

"Humm, sounds like someone I know," she chaffed, getting a growl in return. " I love ya just the way you are, Bosco," she smiled.. She then turned to the van as Hannibal and Face were settling Murdock into the wheelchair. "And there's my favourite son."

"Mama!" B..

"Oh Bosco, you know what I mean," she atoned with a motherly hand on B.A. shoulder, after which she bent down to lay a peck on Murdock's cheek. "How are you doing, Sweetie?

"Not too bad...considering," a sulking Murdock sighed deeply.

"Look...we built up a ramp so you can come and go as you please. Your room is on the first floor and easily accessible."

"Sorry you had to go through this on my account. I don't want to be a burden."

"Murdock, honey. It's no bother at all, believe me. I'm just very happy that you accepted to come," she glanced up at everyone present and added, "that you all came. I hope you'll like it here and you can stay as long as you want. I appreciate the company. It might seem a small farm but it's mighty big and lonely at times." She paused as Murdock let out a muffled yawn.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long trip. Would you mind if I went to have a lie down?" Murdock asked with an acrid tone that suggested exasperation instead of weariness.

"No, not at all. Come, I'll show you all to your rooms. You can catch a nap before dinner," she beckoned, leading the way up the front porch. The team followed with Hannibal pushing Murdock's chair up the ramp.

Once Hannibal and Face had helped Murdock settled into his room, they closed the door for privacy and joined the others gathered in the livingroom.

"Oh Hannibal, how's Murdock?" Evelyn asked with genuine concern.

"Just tired, is all. He needs to catch a few Zs and he'll be alright." Hannibal feigned to spare the good woman any unnecessary qualm, but his strained eyes betrayed him.

"Who are you trying to fool here, Hannibal?" Evelyn retorted. "It's plain to see that he's hurting. Maybe not so physically but emotionally. Level with me... Murdock hasn't fully accepted his condition yet, has he?" She panned around the room to gouge reactions to her question. "Don't shield me, people. I want to help this boy as much as you do, but we need to join forces if we want to goad him into getting off his sorry butt and start walking."

Hannibal cracked a wicked grin at the sweet sound of mischief. "Man, I love this woman."

"We should have her on the team, Hannibal," Face added in.

"With your permission, folks, I want to put Murdock to work on the farm as soon as he's fully rested," the imposing woman asserted, leaving little room for argument.

"You got it, Evelyn. You got it," Hannibal consented. "It'll take some doing but no doubt you have the muscle for it."

"You bet she has, Hannibal, I can vouch for that," B.A. agreed. "The fool ain't got no prayer."

"That's settled then. We'll put the wheels into motion first this in the morning. But for now, why don't you all go catch a nap before dinner. You all look worse for wear."

"It has been a long road," Amy remarked through a muffled yawn.

"Bosco, Sweetie, why don't you show your friends to their rooms."

"Ok mama."

While B.A. beckoned the troop to follow him down the hall to the bedrooms, Mrs. Baracus padded up to Murdock's room and gently nudged open the door that had been left slightly ajar. She poked her head inside and sighed wistfully at the man slumbering soundly on the bed.

"Before the week is over I'll have you walking again, son," she admitted in a whisper before she carefully closed the door.


	9. Chapter 9

"No way, fool!" B.A. roared his displeasure at Murdock's choice of name for a small grey bunny happily hopping in an outdoor pen. "You ain't naming that rabbit Slinky."

"You said...you said I could name any bunny I wanted," Murdock pouted.

"Look at it, man! Does it look like a slinky to you?"

Murdock wheeled his chair a bit closer to the pen and slanted his head. "You're right. He looks more like a Skippy." Murdoch grinned.

B.A. shook his head in annoyance.

"What? You don't like that name either?"

"Skippy? Ain't it the kangaroo?"

"So? He does hop like one."

B.A. signed in exasperation and walked away. Murdock turned to the enclosure where the little critter was now munching on a carrot stick. "You like that name, don't you? Then Skippy it is. Don't let that bark fool you. Down inside he's a soft teddy bear." His attention was suddenly drawn to a small trailer truck driving up the driveway. With growing curiosity, he veered his wheelchair to the right and helmed it toward the unknown visitor.

"Jimmy, what brings you here this fine Monday morning?" Mrs. Baracus asked the young man as he parked the truck.

"A new boarder for your farm, Mrs. Baracus. Hope you have room," he said while heading to the back of the truck with Evelyn and B.A. in tow. "It's a beautiful white mare whose career in obstacle races came to an abrupt end yesterday." He unlocked the trailer door and steered the injured animal out. "She had a bad fall and hurt her left hind leg. The injury wasn't deemed severe enough to put her out of her misery, but the owner can't keep her seeing how she'll never be able to jump again. So naturally I thought of you."

"Good call, Jimmy. Let me take a look at her leg." Mrs. Baracus ran a gentle hand alongside the injured limb."

"Mama, is it serious?" B.A. asked with genuine concern.

"I don't think so, Baby. Anyway I'll have our vet do a thorough examination to make sure."

"You might want to take the pressure off that leg," Murdock suggested as he slowly approached the subdued horse. "She's a beautiful animal," he rhapsodized over the majestic shiny-coated equine.

"He's right," Jimmy agreed. "That's what the vet suggested. I can help you set it up."

"I'd appreciate it, Jimmy. Take her to the stables." Evelyn started for the barn behind Jimmy when she noticed Murdock not following. "Murdock, son, aren't you coming?"

"Thanks but I think you have the situation under control."

"You appear to have knowledge of what needs to be done."

"That's 'cause I've seen this type of injury before during my short stint as a stable boy."

"Then you qualify. Come on, let's go. B.A. will would take your friend down to the stables?"

"Euh... if you don't mind I'd rather do it myself. No offense Big Guy, but you drive like a maniac," Murdock chaffed, getting a scowl in return.

"Why you..." a playful Murdock was off before the irked B.A. could collar him.

On Murdock's instructions, the horse was blindfolded and then eased into a body sling that was slowly elevated to suspend the animal inches above the floor, therefore releasing tension on all four legs. The farm's vetenarian was called to consult on the animal's injury and issued a satisfactory prognosis. The horse would survive the sprain but could never compete again.

While Jimmy, B.A. and Evelyn were assisting the vetenarian in fixing the contraption under Murdock's watchful eye, Face and Hannibal returned from their short visit to the Evans' house. Amy greeted them as they exited the van.

"What's the news?"

"Prescott's still at large," Hannibal informed.

"Are the Evans alright?"

"Holding their own," Face conveyed unconvincingly. "Fortunately Evans did heed our warning and moved his family to a remote location for the time being. Hopefully the police'll nail Prescott with the help of one of his watchdogs. If he spills the beans that is."

"I'm sure the authorities will cut him a nice little deal."

"Let's hope so. I'd hate for Meghan to be hurt again," Amy sighed. "You can't begin to fathom what that little girl went through."

"Where are our two musketeers?" Hannibal asked as he scanned the area looking for the two missing members.

"In the stables. They brought in an injured mare a while ago and they're all in there fixing her up."

"Even Murdock?" Face queried.

Amy smiled thoughtfully. "Yeah, even Murdock. I suspect he took a shining to her. I even heard him laugh for the first time since the accident. I tell you Hannibal, that horse might be what the doctor ordered."

"Well, who would have known," Face expressed with content.

"Well, looks like my young cyclist friend was right. I've found the rabbit lair," a maniacal voice wafted from behind a thicket, with two darting brown eyes peering through the thick brush. With a vengeful grin on his face, he relished the taste of his imminent victory over the enemy.

He waited for the threesome to disappear into the barn to discreetly shoulder his way out of the bush. He threaded lightly and circumspectly to the main house, heedful to remain inconspicuous as he raked the surrounding area for any sign of people roaming about. He quickly assessed the current situation while considering the human factor bound to hinder his moves and stand in the way of his goal. "I need to get to the girl. She's all the insurance I need," he cowed to himself with a Cheshire grin.

One last glance around the premises and he snuck back behind the thicket where he parked himself on a small boulder to cogitate his Machiavellian plan based on the information he gathered so far.

Not a creature stirred for nearly twenty minutes. The shadow seized the quietness to his advantage by collecting missing pieces to elaborate his scheme. Silence was broken by the sound of laughter coming from the barn. He swiftly ducked his head behind the bush wood to spy on the gang ambling out of the stables. "Damn!" He cursed inwardly upon seeing Murdock in his wheelchair. "Who's this guy? Must be the one Hannibal said was wounded in the accident. No sweat, he's crippled and so is the big jug. He's only got one good arm. He can't be too much of a nuisance." He shook his head in annoyance at the potential glitch in his otherwise seamless plan.

He remained in his concealed spot until both Jimmy and the vetenarian bid goodbye and drove away. He dismissed the two visitors on his master plan, but set them aside as likely stumbling blocks. "I've only got one shot. I can't blow this one," he vowed privately before he quietly made himself scarce.

* * *

No sooner had Murdock shown progress that his spirits took a tumble. All were baffled at the sudden turnaround in their friend's demeanour but nonetheless, they were doggedly intent on not forsaking him, regardless of the amount of time required to invest in boosting his morale. They refrained from addressing his handicap as they suspected it to be the triggering element to his relapse.

Fifteen days had elapsed since the day the team arrived at the farm and neither the wheelchair-bound sour puss nor the mare that Murdock affectionately named 'Lady', had made significant progress.

Early one morning, Amy wandered into the stables searching for the missing party at the breakfast table. Sure enough, she found him by Lady's stall lovingly patting the animal's neck.

"I thought I might find you here. We missed you at breakfast."

"I wasn't very hungry," Murdock simpered without making eye contact with Amy.

She came to stand before him to pat the horse's head. "You've been saying that for over a week. You hardly touch your food at meal time."

"Yeah, well, I could stand to lose a few pounds," his attempt at a joke fell flat.

Amy remained silent and veered off the subject by turning her attention to the mare. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

"She is one splendid animal," Murdock agreed. "She and I are very much alike."

"How so?"

"Haven't you noticed? We're both crippled," he quipped.

"It's temporary," Amy stated with a hint of bitterness.

"I'm no fool. I've figured out your little plan. You thought that perhaps by coming here the great outdoors would do me good, Well you're wrong. Clean air isn't going to cut it," he slashed cynically.

"We came here to get away from the recent events."

"By that you mean my predicament."

"Why you ungrateful egotistic bastard!" she fumed at Murdock's selfishness. "You think the world revolves around you? Well it doesn't. B.A was also hurt in that accident or have you forgotten it? Oh yeah sure, you might downplay his injury compared to yours. B.A got lucky. He only broke his arm. Hey! That's nothing!" she rambled on sarcastically. "As for me, I was terrified that I might gett killed in cold blood. I had to act tough in front of the little girl so to reassure her that everything would be alright when I knew it wouldn't." She paused and stepped closer to the Murdock. "So you see, it's not just about YOU, my selfish friend." she lashed out with tears of anger polling in her smouldering eyes.

Murdock leaped in on similar tone, "Oh I realize it's not only about me, but you guys sure go out of your way to make me feel like it is and that's what bugs me."

"You want to help you get better and perhaps we're going the wrong way about it."

"You're smothering me. I need some breathing space. Don't tell me I'm supposed to be walking by now when I can't. I've tried, Lord knows I've tried to stand on those legs but they're not responding, dammit!" he snarled between teeth gritted in suppressed anger while pounding his fists against his legs.

"You've changed, Murdock," she confided morosely. "A few years ago you never would have allowed this adversity to beat you. But now, you're giving up. You're throwing in the towel. Is it because you're tired or that you just don't care anymore."

"I haven't given up the fight, Amy. Do you think I enjoy being bound to this chair?"he seethed.

"I wonder," she answered aloofly, catching Murdock unawares. "I seriously wonder." An eerie silent fell as she headed out of the barn, leaving a contrite Murdock in her wake.

She ambled on to the horse paddock and leaned against the fence, hoping that her scorching arrow had hit the mark. Much to her delight, Murdock wheeled himself out of the stables and came to rest next to her.

"I'm sorry, Amy. You're right, I'm a selfish bastard," he atoned.

A triumphant curl of the lip appeared on her face at the thought of having cracked the tough armour.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to you, guys, but you must understand that I need to do this at my own pace."

She turned around and grabbed him by the shoulders to get her point across the thick skull. "And understand that we care about you and we want to help you get better. We want to old Murdock back in our mist."

"Give me time...I'll get there," he choked out with emotions.

"Deal!" She extended her arm to shake his hand. He took the offering and pulled her in a tight embrace. As they pulled apart, they stood transfixed, eyes locked in a tender gaze. Time froze as they slowly leaned into each other, only to snap out of their trance before the inevitable occurred.

Peering through the livingroom window, Face fashioned an elated smile at the scene unfolding before him "The miracle worker strikes again!"

"How do you figure?" Hannibal asked in puzzlement as he approached the window.

"I saw smiles and a big hug."

"At least someone's getting through to him," B.A. grunted with relief. "And to think, I'm the stubborn one,"

* * *

With Lady taking her first wobbly steps on firm ground, all expected Murdock to follow suit, but the enthusiasm was soon dampened by the Captain's failure to stand on his two feet.

The lack of improvement over the last days suggested the possibility of a concealed ailment that is impeding any movement and making it harder for Murdock to achieve what his friends are hoping for. B.A.'s mother offered to contact her family physician to consult on Murdock's condition and thus determine whether or not it was an actual physical problem and not a mental one.

Hannibal wasn't too keen on the idea of strangers roaming on the premises, ones who could possibly identify them as the infamous fugitives but considering how Murdock was never linked directly to the A-Team, he agreed.

While awaiting the doctor's visit, Murdock decided to take one last shot at standing on his legs. When that umpteenth attempt failed miserably, the irritated man wheeled himself outside and visited with his pet rabbit, Skippy, to drown his sorrow. Talking with the little critter actually released some of the ablaze frustration and soon a smile crossed his face.

Without any warning, all ears pricked up. The rabbit froze and turned toward the ominous sound. Murdock picked up on the animals' restlessness and followed their gaze to the thicket across the field. "Something's out there." His own instincts were kicking in. An eerie feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. He turned to the house, hoping someone was watching him so he could motion them to come and investigate with him.

"Don't move," the voice threatened from behind.

"Bad choice of words, fella," Murdock mocked.

"Alright, don't make a sound or I'll put a slug into your skull."


	10. Chapter 10

"Before you do, can I at least make your acquaintance?"

"Sure." Prescott came to stand before him with a gun thrust at his head. "Recognize me?"

"Sorry to disappoint you but I don't."

"Name's Gary Prescott. I'm sure your friends mentioned me once or twice."

"Yes they have...many times over. You'll be happy to know that you're a household name around here." Murdock retorted with sarcasm.

"You're part of the A-Team, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid I don't have that honor."

"Whether you are is of no consequence. You know them and that's plenty. I preferred taking the girl but you'll do."

"If you're planning to kidnap me, I hope you've got the muscle for it. As you can see, I don't move around so good," he continued to sneer. "You'll have to carry me." He cast a swift glance up at the house to see if anyone was looking out the windows. He quickly assessed his predicament and mentally thumbed through the various means of escape known to work in this particular crisis situation.

"I won't have to do anything of the sort," Prescott sassed back. "I just need you to wheel yourself down to my car parked at the end of the driveway." he motioned with his gun,

"And if I don't?"

Prescott shot at the ground, mere inches from Murdock's foot. Unfortunately for Murdock who hoped the noise would alert the team, the discharge was muffled by the silencer. "The next one will be in your leg and if needed, I'll work my way up to your head. Now move!"

Murdock reluctantly complied, still hoping that his friends had witnessed the entire scene and were poised ready to soar to his aid. "You're taking an awful big risk coming here alone," he temporized.

"Who says I'm alone? I've got men surrounding the place in case one of your friends has half of mind to derail my plans."

"What exactly are your plans?"

"Get the money I lost from the Evans kidnapping. The A-Team shouldn't have gotten involved."

"Yeah, I always tell 'em to keep out of people's affairs but they can't help themselves," he taunted.

Undeterred by the sarcasms, Prescott grabbed the chair handles and wheeled his captive down the alley to speed it up, unbeknownst to him that Amy was sneaking up from behind with a shovel, ready to smash it against Prescott's skull.

Sensing a presence, Prescott swirled on his heels and fired a shot at Amy. Luckily the bullet ricocheted off the shovel's metal plate and lodged itself in the ground. Out of the blue, Murdock sprung up in his chair and leapt at Prescott. Both crashed to the ground with the gun firing a shot into Murdock's right leg. He cried out in agony. His scream rent the air and alerted his friends who came dashing out to the rescue, but not before Amy could take a swing at Prescott with the shovel, knocking him cold.

As Face, Hannibal and B.A. guarded the unconscious crook, Amy rushed to Murdock's side to stem the bleeding. "Did you see what you just did?" she enthused.

"Yeah, I managed to get shot," he hissed out in great pain.

"You got out of that chair. You stood on your legs. You did it!"

"I did, didn't I?" he expressed gleefully through searing pain. "I can feel my legs again...unfortunately," he grimaced "Ohhhh crap, I think I'm going to pass..." his voice trailed off as Murdock surrendered to darkness.

"Guys, carry him into the house, gently" Evelyn instructed. "The doctor should be here any minute."

"Just haul him over my shoulder, Face."

"You sure B.A.? I can give you a hand." B.A. waved Face's offer and bent down to receive the package being loaded onto his good shoulder. Face and Amy both helped him steady himself and walked alongside the burly, though staggering, frame in case of a mishap. Face stopped at the front porch and returned to Hannibal.

"What do we do with him?" Face asked Hannibal who stood stoically by the unconscious criminal. "Hannibal, you ok?"

With a crazed look and veins throbbing in his neck, Hannibal slowly pulled the hammer back on the gun and aimed it at Prescott's chest. "Waste him."

Taken aback by Hannibal's merciless designs, Face grabbed a hold of his arm and lowered it. "Hannibal! You can't do that. Listen...it's over and Murdock's gonna be alright."

"He's a spineless jellyfish that manages to slip through the cracks of any judicial system. There isn't a cell that can hold him. He's escaped once he'll do it again. Do the world a favour and take out the trash." He thrust the gun at Prescott's head as he moaned awake.

"Hannibal, think about what you're doing here," Face warned, hoping to quell the disturbing thirst for blood. "You kill him and we'll be sitting ducks in the Army's shooting gallery for the rest of our lives."

Hannibal frowned at Face's absurd statement. "We're already wanted by the Fed."

"On a crime we did not commit!" Face reasoned. "This can still be proven in a court of law, not that we dare test that theory. If you waste Prescott, we'll have permanent blood on our hands. Is that what you want?"

"Alright," Hannibal yielded but kept the gun fastened on Prescott. "Get up you scum bag!" he spluttered with rage. "We'll give the law one more shot at keeping the screws on you but be warned, you snake," he raised the gun to the dastard's head. "If you so much slither your way out of the hole this time, I'll hunt you down and rip you to pieces. You've got my word."

"I'll get out," Prescott gloated with a conquering smirk. "I have endless loopholes that allow me to squeeze my way out of any indictment they may slap me with." He stepped up to Hannibal with malicious glee. "And your threat don't scare me none. I've heard worse and I'm still here."

In a split second, Hannibal fired a shot into Prescott's leg. "A taste of your own medicine might do you some good for a change," he drooled, relishing the sight of Prescott writhing in pain on the ground. "How does it feel?"

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Prescott shrieked.

"Hannibal! What's going on here?" B.A. asked as he frantically came rushed out the door. "I heard a shot. You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Hannibal pondered his action for a brief moment and smiled contentedly. "I'm really great. It felt good, real good." He handed the gun over to Face and marched into the house to check on Murdock.

"What's going on? What happened to that creep?"

"Euh... you might say he's had a little accident. He's not quite handy with that gun," Face chaffed with a knowing wink. "How's Murdock?"

"Doc says he'll be fine. The bullet went clean through. It missed the bone."

"Hey, I'm bleeding here!" Prescott cringed in agony.

"Here!" Face pulled at the bandana around his neck and threw it at Prescott. "Knock yourself out."

Face drove into town with two farm hands in order to bring Prescott to the local sheriff's office. As a precautionary measure, the Lieutenant kept low key while the package was being delivered to the authorities. His mind roved back to the day they found Murdock underneath that van and how close they came to losing him. The raw memory sent Face's senses reeling and although he wouldn't admit it to Hannibal's face, he shared his yearning to waste Prescott.

* * *

Two weeks flew by since they closed the Prescott chapter. Murdock's condition had improved significantly over the past few days, and our Captain was now walking with the mere aid of a cane.

On the morning on his birthday, Murdock was nowhere to be found. His absence sent everyone in a tizzy as each began searching for the missing party. Amy suspected that Murdock had taken his favourite horse out for a ride and sure enough, Lady was missing from her stall.

"Is he strong enough to be riding?" Face expressed with great concern.

"Is it like Murdock to go off without telling you?" Evelyn asked.

"Not to my knowledge. Should we go after him, you think?" Amy's question was directed at everyone present.

"No," Hannibal answered wistfully. "Let him be. He asked for breathing space."

"Yeah, but what if the fool gets into a jam? The horse could trip up and throw him. They both ain't exactly steady on their legs," B.A. claimed.

"I'm sure Murdock would appreciate your concern for him, B.A," Hannibal smiled thoughtfully, touched by the big guy's compassion for his buddy. "If he's not back by lunchtime, we'll ride out after him."

Two hours later, Lady galloped back to the farm without a rider. A large note was attached to her saddle and Hannibal read it out loud:

"_Guys,_

_I will be gone by the time you find this note. Sorry I couldn't say goodbye face to face but if I told you the reason for leaving, you'd try to talk me out of it and force me to stay. While riding with Lady, I had a flash. Can't share what it is for I don't know myself whether it's noteworthy or not, but I have to pursue my hunch._

_Please don't try to find me. I'll get in touch with you once it's over and hopefully, my suspicion pans out._

_Take care of my Lady for me I will be back for her ...and for my other lady._

_Howling Mad_


	11. Chapter 11

"What's this all about?" Face asked with bafflement.

"I have no idea, but I guess we'll have to abide by his will."

"I don't like this Hannibal," B.A. cringed.

"I don't think we have any choice in the matter. I just wish he'd given us a clue as to what he's up to," Hannibal pondered.

Evelyn ambled over to Amy who was patting Lady with a big smile on her face. "You're the other lady Murdock was referring to in his letter, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?" Amy affected with an air of surprise.

"You can't fool an old lady, sweetie," Evelyn said compassionately as she wrapped a comforting arm around Amy's shoulders. "I've seen the way you two gaze at each other."

"I don't know what I'm feeling, really," Amy confessed. "Guess I'll never find out."

"He said he'll be back."

"Or maybe he won't..." she faltered with an emotional choke.

With their pilot gone, the A-Team narrowed the range of missions to the greater Los Angeles area.

As for Amy, she chose to accept Mrs. Baracus's offer of a job on the farm. She rested content to care for the animals and especially Murdock's cherished horse. Aside from being her confident, she groomed Lady to be a champion race horse, which is a feat that vetenarians agreed would never be achieved again.

Following an aggregate of twenty-two missions for the team and three winning runs for Lady, Hannibal, Face and B.A. returned to the farm for a visit. A year had gone by since Murdock left and all expected him to show up on the day of his birthday.

No sooner had the gang stepped out of the van that Evelyn and Amy greeted them with open arms. Once hugs and kisses had been exchanged, an elated Amy handed Hannibal the morning's paper with the bold headline that read. 'The A-Team exonerated of war crimes'.

"What's this?" Hannibal asked a bit puzzled.

"You're free. You're no longer fugitives from justice. The court expiated you. They cleared you of all wrongful accusations."

"But...how? I mean..." Face stuttered, trying hard to grasp at the reality of the print.

"You mean who did it?" Amy turned around and motioned to Murdock standing on the front porch. "He's guilty of all charges."

"Murdock!" Face exulted.

"Hey guys! Long time no see." He walked over to the threesome and clasped them into a tight embrace, with B.A. receiving a smacking kiss on the forehead.

"Fool! Don't be doing that again!" B.A. barked with a scornful look.

"Sorry, I'm just so excited to see you, Big Guy."

"Yeah, well, I'm glad to see you too," B.A. expressed diffidently, holding back his inner jubilation in front of the others.

Hannibal held up the newspaper. "Murdock, can you explain this?"

"Remember the flash I had while I was out riding with Lady?"

"The one you mentioned in your farewell letter?"

"Right. Well while in Nam. I inadvertently stumbled upon covert information relevant to the crime that you were later tried for. I knew the mastermind who had orchestrated the scheme and that's when I got shot and lost it completely after that. After the war, I was committed to the psych ward and plain forgot what I had seen and heard until Prescott showed up that day on that farm. His face looked familiar but I just couldn't place him. It was later when I was out riding by myself that it all came back. It was Prescott. He was part of the unit that perpetrated the crime."

"Prescott?"

Murdock nodded. "I then sought to gather all the evidence to reverse the court's ruling. What I lacked Prescott provided."

"You mean he just came right out and confessed?" Face asked incredulously.

"Not exactly. I had to work him up pretty good and during the grilling, he make an inadvertent major slip of the tongue and wound up incriminating himself. Thereafter he had no choice but to spill the beans. It went so smoothly that you guys didn't need to be subpoena. Court cleared you of all charges. " Amy smiled and wrapped her arm around Murdock's waist. "That's it! No more Decker, no more running away. You're free."

"It's hard to believe," Hannibal rejoiced.

"Want to hear something else that's unbelievable? I checked with my shrink after this was all over and after giving me the once-over, he discharged me from the VA hospital. Apparently I'm..." he hesitated to utter the word, "I'm sane. I still have a hard time swallowing that one." He cringed in wait of B.A.'s imminent quip but surprisingly, it didn't come.

"I'm aware I still got ways to go before all the pieces fit in but I expect I'll get there eventually if you guys are willing to help me walk that last mile."

"That all depends," B.A. cut in. He strode up to Murdock with warning look. "Are you gonna stop talking to yourself or seeing people that ain't there? Altogether quit fooling around?"

"Yes sir," Murdock gulped. "That is I'll try."

"I'll make sure you do," B.A. threatened with a finger pointed at Murdock. Seconds later, the scowl faded into a playful smile and a teasing wink. "Welcome back, sucker!"

"Ah...I have a question," Face interrupted timidly. He clasped Amy's left hand and exposed the diamond ring on her finger. "May I ask what this is?"

Murdock gazed lovingly at Amy and pulled her closer. "I asked this fine lady to marry and she said yes."

**~~~~THE END~~~~**


End file.
